The Boy Who Lived
by Croyez
Summary: My take on the night Lily and James died.


Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

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It was a still, cold night. There was no sound able to disrupt the eerie silence that washed over the houses of Godric's Hollow except the delicate, quiet sound of the cold breeze passing by, immersing the houses in a wave of cold, while the owners of the houses slept peacefully in their beds, snuggled under their sheets.

Yet something was to happen.

Nobody knew it at the time, but tonight, history was to be made. Tonight, an event that would change the course of the Wizarding World would take place, and numerous lives would take a turn for the better. It was slight irony that, at the cost of an innocent young boy's happiness, he who had planned it all out would finally meet his demise.

The Dark Lord surveyed the house before him and smiled maliciously. No one had expected it, but Peter Pettigrew had indeed proved useful. A most rewarding surprise it had been, when he had come running to him, babbling about how the Mudblood-loving fool that was Dumbledore had allowed him to be the Potter's secret-keeper. It had clearly been the best day of the traitor's miserable life. It was astonishing how someone so idiotic and naïve had helped him so much. With a smirk, he thought it would be fit to reward him if tonight's plans succeeded.

Lord Voldemort allowed himself to immerse into a slight fantasy of the power he would gain after tonight—the power he would have over Dumbledore and the Order. He would have free reign to do as he pleased, and he intended to first take over the Ministry, obtain more followers—particularly some of the Dark potion brewers the Ministry kept tabs on—gain his infinite immortality, and finally, annihilate Dumbledore and his followers. After tonight, the world would be at his feet.

"Master," one of his Death Eaters said suddenly, disrupting his musings, "should we go in with you?"

"Of course not," Voldemort snapped irritably, rounding on him, "I am to do this alone, Lucius," with one final look at the house, he waved his wand carelessly towards the lamps that illuminated the streets. With a pop, each one's light decreased slowly, until the Death Eaters and their Master were surrounded in darkness.

"But master, if something were to go wrong---"

"Enough! Do not dare question Lord Voldemort!" Voldemort hissed menacingly, his scarlet eyes narrowed, and Lucius fell silent. As their Master turned towards them, the small circle of Death Eaters held their breath, each of them with a sense of foreboding pounding in their chests. Voldemort raised an eyebrow, "I sense fear, my followers…" he breathed softly, sending shivers down their spines. One or two of them shifted uncomfortably, which only increased the amusement in Voldemort's pitiless eyes, "Perhaps you feel guilty? Or is it simply that you fear death tonight?" he played with his wand between his long, pale fingers, and every single Death Eater eyed it carefully; some, afraid that they would end up on the wrong side of it, and others, curious as to who their Master would kill before proceeding.

"You will never have to fear death at my hands unless you have done something that would incur my utmost wrath," Voldemort continued softly, pacing around the circle of Death Eaters, "If you wish to avoid such a thing, you should always know, there is nothing worse than death—especially if it is delivered by Lord Voldemort. But how to impress upon you such a thing, so that you will never forget?" he asked menacingly, his eyes flickering over a Death Eater by the name of Dougal Blair.

Dougal stared back, the fear evident in his eyes and shaking frame, before he collapsed to his knees, "Oh, Master! Please! Do forgive me! I never meant to alert the Ministry of your plans!" he breathed, sobbing and clutching the hem of his Master's robes, "But they tortured me! Used the Veritaserum on me…I…I…" his voice trailed off as he lifted his head and was met with a hateful, rather amused look from Voldemort.

"Did they? You have never felt true torture, Blair…" he hissed, "But no matter…I suppose I can assist a traitor in his quest…" he said, and stepped away from him, raising his wand, "_Silentio_," he whispered, and Blair's sobs were immediately silenced, "First, I shall mute your worthless screams of pain…it increases the agony of it all, you see," he paused, looked at the remaining Death Eaters, and looked back at Dougal, "_Caries Corium_," he breathed, and a horrible sight greeted his followers' eyes. Dougal's skin began to decompose while he writhed and opened his mouth—as if to shriek—in pain. Voldemort watched in cruel, heartless amusement, as Dougal slowly reached his death. Finally, he vanished his corpse and turned to the remaining Death Eaters, "I believe," he said, "that now you all understand that I do not tolerate treachery against me. Now, for what he came here…you all know very well what you are to do. I do not have to explain it once more," he smiled a horrible, cruel smile, "I cannot deny I am quite appalled at how favorable this has been. I kill three of my enemies—including Blair—and I kill the young boy who is—supposedly—to be powerful enough to destroy me,"

They all nodded numbly as he looked at each of them in turn. He then looked at the house's door and walked towards it. He performed a simple charm, and the door burst open. Voices—anxious ones—broke the deathly silence.

A man's voice was heard first. James Potter sprinted towards the door, wand in hand, as his wife and his son ran up the stairs, "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off---"

Voldemort laughed his cold, high-pitched laugh as he stepped inside the house. It was very elegant, clean, and well kept. However, Voldemort did not bother taking in the details of its appearance, as in a few minutes, it would be nothing but a ruin…a mere memory of the events that took place, "I am not here to battle you, Potter. My problem is not with you," he said dismissively.

"You'll never get to them. He's my son—I won't let you kill him," James said angrily, raising his wand.

Voldemort raised his eyebrows, amused, "Ah, yes, it is love again that has blinded you. But you must accept, he is going to die, and so are you, Potter. There is nothing that can change that,"

"Don't be so sure of that, _Voldemort_," James snarled, sending a stunning spell towards Voldemort, who avoided it expertly, cackling madly.

Not even five seconds after that, Voldemort raised his wand, "I'll go easy on you, Potter…_Crucio_!" he bellowed, waving his wand towards James.

James threw himself to the side and narrowly avoided the curse. "I don't need your pity. Rather, I'd advise you to watch out for yourself. _Secui_!" he said, getting up quickly and whipping his wand in Voldemort's direction.

Voldemort conjured a shield out of nowhere and the spell rebounded upon James, causing a five-inch long slash to sprawl itself across James' cheek. His wand also flew from his hand and landed across the room, "Getting a bit darker with our curses, now, are we? Very well, if that is your choosing…" Voldemort sneered, "_Infractus __Os_!" he hissed, pointing his wand at James, who was sprinting around the room to recover his wand.

James cursed, jumping to avoid the curse, which was heading for his leg. As the spell hit the wall, a large crack appeared. The spell bounced off the wall, and sped up behind James. With an anxious look behind him, James dived and fell to the floor beside his wand. He groped it anxiously and turned to cast a shield on himself when the curse hit his outstretched right arm. He gave a stifled cry of pain as the bones in his arm seemed to break into small, tiny pieces. His wand slipped from his fingers, but he caught it with his left arm. With a hateful glare towards Voldemort, he cried, "_Flamora_!"

Fire appeared in a great circle around the Dark Lord, who laughed shrilly before Apparating out of the circle. "Fool," Voldemort said, "You shall never win. Why even try, when you know it yourself? I can see it in your very eyes…"

"_Mobiliarbus_!" James hissed, pointing at the table and the chairs, all of which moved towards Voldemort at breakneck speed, "I will never give up, Voldemort! And whether I die or not—you will never kill my son. Never,"

"_Diffindo_!" Voldemort said, and they all burst apart, "Hope…such idiocy," he said softly. Turning his wand on James, he muttered, "_Incarcerous_!"

James, gasping from the pain that invaded his right arm, was not quick enough to block the spell, and as the ropes binded him, he lost balance and fell—painfully—to his right side. Voldemort walked slowly towards him, savoring the suffering that could be seen in the man's eyes as he tried to ignore the pain in his arm. When he reached him, he looked at him with a cruel smile, "Do you still believe you are going to be victorious in this battle?" he whispered, "Do you still believe your beloved son will live? There is only one thing standing between him and I, Potter, and that is your dear wife. I shall enjoy disposing of her,"

James made a noise of outrage and gave him a hateful look, "You—!"

Voldemort raised his wand, "_Crucio_!" he snapped, and the air was filled with James screams, "Yes, Potter, I will not bother silencing you. Let her hear your screams…let her know the Dark Lord is on his way towards her…" he said, laughing shrilly.

After James screams died and he had resorted to writhing on the floor, eyes shut tightly, Voldemort lifted the curse. With a small wave of his wand, he forced James to look up at him, and gave him a cruel smile, "Take a good look at death, Potter," he whispered, his scarlet eyes gleaming maliciously, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

Lily had ran as fast as possible towards her son's room. She had casted a _Colloportus_ charm on the door and set several wards around it. Cold tears streamed down her cheeks as she listened to her husband dueling with Voldemort. Oh, she tried to ignore the yells, she sounds the spells made, but she couldn't. The father of her son was down there, risking his life to save theirs, and there was nothing she could do about it. With a stifled sob, she turned to Harry. He was laying inside his tiny crib, looking up at his mother with his brilliant green eyes, a peculiar look crossing his delicate features. It looked like…pity?

Ignoring her logical instincts, which told her that he probably didn't understand what was happening, Lily stretched her arms out and picked up Harry. He gave him a long, soft hug and whispered, "Everything will me okay, Harry…I promise I won't let anything happen to you," she paused, kissing his forehead, "You will be fine…you will grow up, healthy, and you will become a powerful wizard. I am already proud of you, darling…"

At that instant, James' screams drowned the rest of her words. She shut her eyes tightly, humming a lullaby to Harry as she paced around the room. She tried to bring herself to calm, to convince herself that James would be okay, but as his screams slowly began to fade, she realized he wasn't going to live through this.

As she opened her eyes once more, there was a flash of green light clearly visible beneath the door. It could only mean one thing, "J-James..." she whispered as tears went streaming down her face once more. She shook quietly from her sobs, still holding Harry tightly. Finally, she strode back to his crib and placed him inside again, "I love you, Harry…" she whispered softly.

Three loud bangs came from the direction of the door as Voldemort broke the wards and the _Colloportus_ spell. Finally, the door burst open, revealing the tall, cloaked figure of the Dark Lord.

Lily quickly snatched her wand from the bedside table and held it tightly, "No…please…don't kill him! Please…"

Voldemort flicked his wand at her, and her wand flew from her hand to the floor, "Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside, now..." he hissed.

"Not Harry, please no, take me—kill me instead!" Lily said shakily, blocking Harry's crib from view and debating with herself as to whether she should summon her wand or not.

"I _will_ kill you, of that you can be sure," Voldemort snarled, raising his wand, "Now, _stand aside_,"

"No! Please...have mercy...have mercy..."

"Lord Voldemort shows no mercy," he said, a slow, cruel smile spreading across his face, "I thought you would have known that after listening to your moronic husband die mere moments ago…"

Lily's face tightened, and hatred as she had never experienced before rose inside her, "Don't you speak of James like that…" she said angrily, summoning her wand and pointing it, yet again, at Voldemort, "Or else I will…"

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, "You dare threaten the Dark Lord?" he hissed, his eyes cold as ice as he watched Lily point her wand at him.

Lily's bright green eyes widened as she realized what she was doing, but there was no turning back now, "Yes," she said, her voice slightly stronger now, "_Expelliarmus_!" she yelled, uttering the first spell that came to her mind.

Voldemort was thrown back into the wall, but his wand never left his hand. He stood back up, eyes narrowed, "Then I shall grant your undying wish to sacrifice your life—even if it shall be worthless," Voldemort hissed, raising his wand, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

There was a flash of green light, and Lily's dead body crumpled in the floor. Voldemort gave her a scornful glance, and stepped towards Harry's crib. The baby stared up at Voldemort's narrow, scarlet eyes, and gasped slightly. He never cried, however, and he held his gaze, "Curious creature…you are brave, boy, but not powerful," Voldemort said softly, "A mere half-blood, destroy the great Lord Voldemort? I think not," he said scornfully, raising his wand.

"Good-bye, Harry," he said, smiling maliciously. He pointed his wand at Harry and performed the curse. The curse that was to destroy the young baby before him. The curse that had destroyed so many other people...

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

And then...there was a flash of green light, and a yell. Voldemort was thrown back, and his eyes widened in shock as he witnessed what was happening. The spell was hovering above the baby, who remained unharmed. The green light then became smaller, as it traced an odd shape in young Harry's forehead. Voldemort stood up, and stared in wonder. How could the _Avada Kedavra_ not work on this small, weak baby, when just a few minutes ago it had killed two full-grown adults?

The light then became black, and it glided towards the tall, snakelike figure that was Voldemort. Without warning, it hit him, and he felt as though all the life he possessed was being sucked out of him. He gasped for breath, not comprehending what was happening.

And then, the light faded. The Dark Lord stood there on the floor of Harry Potter's room in James and Lily Potter's house, barely alive. He turned to the baby, the boy who was to vanquish him; the boy that, on such a fateful night, had so effortlessly changed his life, and so many others.

"We shall meet again, Harry Potter. And when we do...you will not live to speak the tale..." he said finally, torn between amazement and anger. Then, the Dark Lord took off into the night through the window to his left.

And after such an episode, the moon shone brighter than ever, and the wind became warmer as it made its way into the Potter's house in Godric's Hollow and accompanied the young child who had survived the Dark Lord's brutal attack on his family, and who would live on to be known as, "The Boy Who Lived."

FIN


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